


A Modern Fairytail

by myumyuu



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: ......, Coffeeshop AU, M/M, USUK - Freeform, ratings might not go up, this feel like the longest shit i have written lel, why is the usuk tag gone
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 16:08:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6665299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myumyuu/pseuds/myumyuu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>By chance, he met a handsome stranger on a rainy night. Now Arthur returns to the same coffee shop again everyday, determined to return something they had forgotten. But with only a face and a name, how long will it be before they crossed path again?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Modern Fairytail

**Author's Note:**

> This one a little slow... bear with me. This AU's been eating me up for years and it took me so long to write it. Comments and feedback are more than welcome! I live for those ehehhehe

The rain had everyone huddled up in the cafe, bundled in warm clothes and sipping a warm drink of some sort. Small droplets of water hit the windows with light pitter patter. A sheet of frost glazed the window, blurring the image from an outsider's perspective. It was just about that time of year where Halloween decorations goes off the shelves like hot cakes, with the majority of people already finishing the final touches of their costume for the one particular spooky day, or in a hurry to grab the last of those tacky Halloween costumes from the store despite the bad weather Halloween is tomorrow after all!

 

For someone like Alfred a costume was the last of his worries. The autumn chill brings in many customers other than their regulars, making the little joint very crowed. Bless the owner, he installed a brand new heater after the old one broke down. It worked magnificently! Or a little too well would be what Alfred would tell you, for his favorite spot had been nabbed by one greasy kid laughing uncontrollably while texting his girlfriend or whoever. He could just sit next to him but no, fucker's hogging the electric socket under the seat to charge his phone despite it already at 70%.

 

So really, a costume was the least of Alfred's worries. In his arms the American have a dead laptop tucked securely under his pits, and a pile of unfinished manuscript lying around that's due tomorrow, exactly on Halloween day. The one day he could have been pigging out on free candies, he had to worry about keeping his editor's blood pressure on the safe zone.

 

Nice.

 

There are a few reasons why the writer choose this place. From the checked tiles and creamy walls to those little knick knacks the owner added to the various shelves and corner for a bit of personal touches, the cafe have a retro theme that reminded him so much of home. Alfred very much enjoyed the  atmosphere here too, it was much better than his previous writing camp which was just your average 24 hours fast food joint with free WiFi. Not that he have a bone to pick with McDonalds, but here the smell of freshly brew coffee lingers in the air, there are no screaming children or ads blasting from the speakers instead, soft jazz music and quite chatters graced his ear.

 

His beloved corner, obscure and well equipped with a plug under the seat and a back alley view, had been deem by the writer himself the best place to slave himself to hours and hours of pain but he only felt more pain when he saw that it's already been occupied.

 

 _Nice_.

 

Getting upset is a waste of energy but that doesn't stop Alfred from mentally cursing the weather for the increase in customers.

Like a skilled ninja he weaved through the hoard of people, carefully avoiding any sort of skin ship. His laptop being clutched tightly to his side, hands tucked snugly into his pockets.

 

"Do you need to charge?" A man looked up to him from his seat.

 

It took the writer a while to register someone talking to him, his blue eyes widen to the size of dinner plates, looking to make sure that the man wasn't just taking to someone else close to him... but those green eyes were clear as summer skies, looking directly at him. Alfred dumbly pointed at himself.

 

"You without the scarf, yes you. Aren't you cold?" The man looked at him, expecting an answer. Already he unplugged his phone and set it aside his coffee cup and picked up a book. "I don't bite, you looked really troubled there so I just wanted to help... but hey, I get it, not everyone is comfortable with sitting next to a stranger so I won't force you."

 

Alfred coughed into his fist, reluctantly took a small step towards the man offering to save his career. He doesn't have a scarf... so the man was really talking to him! As much as he want to avoid any sort of interactions the offer was too kind, too tempting.

 

"N-No! I mean, yes! Sorry man, I was just surprised." His voice came out raspy and awkward. "People around here don't easily give away a perfectly good spot to charge their devices."

 

"Hmm, well I'm not from around."

 

"Oh? Where then? Aussie?"

 

"England. Are you sitting or no?"

 

"Ah! Right, sorry. I can't really different shape." Alfred gave a sheepish little smile and sat down across the other, setting his precious laptop on the desk. He then dug into his shoulder bag for the cable. It didn't take too long for him to set everything up and sighed into his seat. "Thanks again, man!"

 

"No problem."

 

This English man had a seat somewhere closer to the entrance. It's more noisier upfront, cold chill brushes against his cheeks every time someone opened the door. It's odd to be in the same place but from a different perspective. Alfred felt so uncomfortable so... so exposed. It had been a few good months since he sat somewhere other than his corer. Alfred don't think he will ever get used to this, it's a little too much for him to handle and ever so often, he glance up from his screen to his new acquaintance and then behind his shoulder, feet shuffling under the table as an attempt to calm his nerves.

 

"Are you cold?"

 

"What?"

 

"Aren't you cold?" The Englishman chuckled, putting his book aside. He seem quite interested in the writer's lack of layers. "You're wearing some awful thin clothes in such weather!"

 

"Not really..." Almost everyone around him have a scarf or coat of some sort on. Alfred only wore a pair ripped up jeans, a shirt and a dirty old jacket he got from his late grandfather so really, he should be freezing his balls off right about now if he wasn't immured to the cold. "I'm a tough cookie, don't worry about it!"

 

"A tough cookie, seriously?" The British man mused, rolling his eyes in a playful manner. This is the first time he heard an adult refer himself as a 'tough cookie'.

 

"Y-Yeah. So mh..., name's Alfred, you?"

 

"Arthur; charmed."

 

"Sweet." _Shit, what now?_

 

With a smile, Arthur proceed to occupy himself with his book. Alfred took it as permission to resume his work, the two of them fell into a surprisingly comfortable silent but unknown to him, green eyes peeked at him from the edges of browned pages. From a close up, Alfred is very handsome; casual clothes looked good on him and Arthur secretly wishes to see the American in formal attire.

 

"Mr. Arthur? Is there a Mr. Arthur here?"

 

"Are they calling for you?" After a few more call for 'Mr.Arthur', Alfred cleared his throat to snap the man out of his ogling daze. He ought to give the poor barista a break.

 

"Hm- oh- OH." His cheeks grew warm from embarrassment. Arthur put down his book and stood. "Yes, aauhm, thank you. I'll be right back."

 

"No problem!"

 

To Alfred it just seem like Arthur was too into his book to noticed. The writer leaned over and took a look, he was curious what his table mate had been reading that took so much of his attention away.

 

It was a title he did not recognized, but the book itself looked well care for despite the brown corners and faint scratches on the cover. A small leaf was sticking out from one of the pages; a bookmark. Arthur must really love books, he concluded. The thought alone made the writer smile, it's amazing to find someone that appreciate the wonders of books and literature these days.

It took Arthur awhile to finally return, holding two steaming cup of beverage in his hands.

 

"I'm terribly sorry, Alfred! They messed up my order and refused to change it so I had to buy another one. Do you- Alfred?" Where the American once sat, now occupied by a young lady in tall boots and a red coat. The girl was in the process of plugging in her laptop, she jumped when met with Arthur's question gaze.

 

"Oh, I-I'm sorry, I didn't took anything! My laptop was dying and I just had to finish my homework within the hour!"

 

"Where was the man sitting here?" Had Alfred left?

 

The young lady gave Arthur a confused tilt of her head. "There wasn't anyone here... just a book and that laptop. This isn't yours? Should I... leave?"

 

"No, no. It's quite alright... my friend was sitting here, maybe he went to the toilet. Hm," he took a peak of Alfred's laptop. The battery seemed full, "I don't think he needs the plug anymore."

 

Surely the American knew, that leaving his gadgets unattended isn't very bright? A tiny bubble of anger boiled in his stomach, what if it had been stolen?! He isn't going to take responsibility! Nonetheless, he couldn't turn down the sweet lady of a power outlet(being the gentleman he is)! Alfred wouldn't mind, right? All he had to do was explain to the man when he returned.

 

Two hours later, Arthur turned to the last page of his novel. The seat next to his' bare. "Sir? We're closing in five."

 

Arthur had no choice but to reluctantly leave, the writer's laptop clutched under his arms.


End file.
